


What the F*** is a Multiverse?

by RedLetterMistress



Category: Jay Bauman - Fandom, Mike Stoklasa - Fandom, Red Letter Media
Genre: F/M, Multiverse, Seven Minutes In Heaven Game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29006937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLetterMistress/pseuds/RedLetterMistress
Summary: You find yourself in an alternate dimension with several very familiar characters. Tempers begin to flare and time is running short.You propose a game to stem the violence and make the best of a strange situation.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 16





	1. The Insanely Long Set Up

"Oi! Did it work, mate?"

Clouds of green smoke billow around you; limiting your vision to basically nothing. 

_What the fuck?_

"Possibly. I'm not sure. I don't exactly have the latest equipment," comes a smaller voice.

"Well you didn't have a problem gettin' tha rest of these wankers 'ere; drinkin’ me outta house and home!"

_Who is that?_

"It's a very sensitive operation," says the other voice. "I’m working in a branch of multi-universe theoretical physics that's beyond anything I've ever…" the words cut short as both men begin to cough on the thick smoke.

_Where the hell am I?_

The green fog finally starts to clear and you peer down to find yourself sitting in a strange chair. It's like the one from a dentist office, but much more disturbing, as you don’t remember being at the dentist. 

Flashing lights of all colors and a multitude of bloops and bleeps chitter out of a wall full of electronics on your left. Well, electronics and badminton rackets. And some macrame plant hangers. And a _hedge trimmer,_ maybe?

"Bloody hell! It's 'er!" 

You look up to see two long faces staring down at you expectantly through thick safety goggles.

_What the…?_

Before you can finish the thought, the smaller man leans closer and pokes you in the cheek. 

"Ouch! What the fuck was that!?" you yelp as you reach up to hold your face. 

Both men recoil quickly and move to take off their eye protection.

"She's… oh… she's just... wow!" says the shorter man with the Starfleet insignia visible under his white lab coat. "Scientific American is going to have to publish QUITE the apology article to me!"

"Fuck all that, mate!" barks the tall fellow in the spiked leather jacket. He throws his goggles into a corner of the room like they’re garbage. "How do we even know it's 'er?"

"Where am I?" you question. You gaze up at the lanky man next to your chair and see the neon-green tips of his hair. 

_The pale skin, long cheeks and sharp jawline… you know that from somewhere..._

He cracks a cocky grin and you see his tiny teeth sparkle.

"Wait… are you Mike? Mike Stoklasa?" 

"Ah, fuck! Her brain's all mushy!" the man groans as his smile fades. 

_He's not Mike? There's something so familiar about him. The terrible accent, the jacket, the plaid pants..._

_But it's not possible..._

His gorgeous, deep brown eyes look to you with what seems like pity. He takes a light hold of your shoulder and sighs. "Sorry, love. I don't know who you're on about, but I'm not 'im. My name's..."

"Holy shit, you're… you're **_Sid!?"_ **

The tall man's eyes go wide and a huge smile appears on his stubbled face.

"Ha! That's rioght!" Sid exclaims. His eyes whip over to find the mousey man who's currently hiding most of himself behind a large stack of computer CPU's. 

"Did you 'ear that? I knew she'd fancy me straight off!" Sid laughs before moving to elbow his companion in the ribs. The nerdy young man pitches over at the waist and reaches to hold his side.

" _Owie_. I… just… don't think we have anywhere enough data to prove that," moans the dishwater-blonde in his oversized white coat.

_Or is it a regular-sized and he’s just that small...?_

You sit up straight in the examination chair with wide eyes. "Oh my God, _Dex?!_ Is that you?!"

"I… uh… yes? I.. yes, actually. That's me. Yes." Dex coughs as he tries to look confident. He leans on a thin metal table to your right and the entire thing collapses to the ground. 

"What a fuckin' twat!" Sid groans. 

You look down to watch Dex gather his science doodads and see you're wearing your usual t-shirt and comfy pajama pants.

"Am I… wait… How are you…? Am… am I dead?" 

Dex struggles to set all of his strange equipment back on the exam table as he stumbles through a response.

"Well, technically, multiverse travel coupled with quantum entanglement and Schrödinger's thought experiments means you have the potential of being in both _live_ and _dead_ states _simultaneously_ in infinite realities... until the inevitable collapse of one or other wave function…"

You stare open-mouthed at Dex and try to make any sense of what he's saying. Sid balks at him before reaching over to your chair. His fingers pinch sharply into the meat of your leg.

"Owww!” you screech. “You fucker! That hurt!"

"Well if it 'urts, then you're not fucking dead, rioght?!"

"I… I guess so," you reply as you rub your tender thigh. "Then where am I?"

"Oh! I can answer that!" Dex yelps and his index finger shoots straight up. He takes a few long steps away and wheels over a large white board covered in mathematical equations and multiple, crude drawings of a planet. _Earth?_ Multiple Earths. And a _funnel? Maybe?_

You turn to Sid and see him roll his eyes. He smoothes his left hand through the black hair just above his pointed ear and looks down to you; catching your gaze before flashing you a wink and a devilish smile. 

_Damn, Mike must have gotten in a lot of trouble when he was younger._

Dex clears his throat and you focus back on him.

"Sid and I are huge fans; we've been watching your movie on repeat for months,” he explains. “We even tracked down a copy on lazer-disk, but we've been watching the VHS version mostly… Ever since Sid’s drummer died, we’ve had a lot of spare time."

"What?"

"You're our favorite character," he relates excitedly. "It's not an… overly popular film here, no offense intended… but you're amazing in it.'

"It's fucking awful to tell you the truth of it, but it just chuffs me to bits," adds Sid. 

"Yeah. Absolutely," Dex nods. "And we really wanted to meet you, in the flesh, as it were… but I had to get the satellite timing just right." He grabs a marker and uses it to point out a small illustration of… YOU… it seems. In some kind of bikini. _Or loin cloth, perhaps?_

"Don't mind the little guy, girly. Dex 'ere watched _Weird Science_ and he got an idea stuck in his big brain. But he mucked the whole bit a 'alf dozen times before you finally popped in outta nothin’."

"I'm sorry, what? How am I here? And **_what_ ** even is here?"

Dex pushes his gold wire-rim glasses up to the bridge of his sharp nose. "You see, last year, we were able to secure an array of alien equipment as well as some powerful occult items from Satan himself…"

"We made you!" Sid exclaims happily and throws up devil horns with both hands. His pink tongue hangs out of his mouth and it’s damn distrac...

"What?! Wait! You didn't make me!" you yell.

"Well, we _caused an interdimensional rift that temporarily pulled you into our reality_ is more accurate," Dex expounds as he pushes up the short sleeves of his lab coat.

Both of your hands shoot up to cover your eyes.

"You guys arent even fucking real! You're just young Mike wearing two pairs of pants and young Jay in Jeffrey Dahmer glasses!"

Sid and Dex turn to look at each other and shrug; seemingly totally unaware of who any of those men might be. You plant a foot on the floor and try to stand up.

"I was just doing my laundry and… and… shit… did I have a stroke or something?"

Dex's green eyes go wide before he sprints to what looks like a Speak-and-Spell mounted on the far wall. His Airwalk sneakers squeak loudly on the linoleum floor as he pivots through piles of keyboard parts and extension cords. The plastic orange box has been rigged up with eight different cables and a long sheet of paper sputters out of its side. Dex examines the read out for a short while before turning back to you.

"Nope, no stroke that I can see. You're... totally nominal," he reports enthusiastically. He slaps his forehead and grumbles to himself: “Damn it, Dex! _‘Nominal?’_ Should have told her she was great. Or that she was pretty… such an idiot…”

"But… you're just characters… in an old Red Letter Media movie..." Your thoughts falter as you get a solid footing. You take a short step forward into a black and white wall. _A wall that smells fucking amazing for some reason._ Your neck cranes up... and up... and up to finally see Mik… **_Sid's_ ** thin face as he towers above you.

"Aw, damn! Her brain's all gobbledygook," Sid sighs. "That's a right shame. I kinda liked her smarts..."

"No, dude. Her brain's fine," Dex chimes as he crosses his arm over his chest. 

"... body still looks great, though," Sid admits under his breath. Dex's face wrinkles with disgust before he scoffs at the taller man. Sid lowers his voice, but he’s only about a foot away and you can still hear every word. 

"Whut? Just think I'd have a better shot with her if she were more of a dummy."

"That's disturbing, Sid."

"She's not your girlfriend, mate."

"Not yours either!"

"Whuts wrong with telling a dumb girl that she's fit!?"

"You never valued her intelligence!!" Dex's shouts while his small hands ball into fists at his sides.

Sid's voice begins to crack as he roars down at the other man:

"OOOooOOOoooh! And all the nights I hear you bashing the bishop in your room… wanking to her _personality_ , are ya!?"

"Whaaaaat the fuck is happening?" you shout.

"Nothing!" Dex blurts. He turns to you and smiles awkwardly. "Just, uh… just happy to finally have you here. We’re running out of time and it took a few tries."

"What do you mean?"

"Hey science boy, did you and that punk kid get that fancy contraption of yours working?" chimes a new voice behind Sid. It sounds like an old-timey newsreel, but also strangely familiar...

"You fuckin’ pussy-fart! Fuck off, copper!" Sid growls over his shoulder.

_Wait… Does that mean..?_

“It’s _Cooper,_ you delinquent little limey!”

A broad figure exactly as tall as Sid steps in from the doorway. A khaki-brown trench coat drapes over his solid form and a silver badge gleams from a lanyard around his neck. The smell of his cigarette smoke fills the room. _Or is this a closet?_

"I don't care for your attitude or that porcupine hairstyle of yours, but I'll be damned if you're not a good-looking young fella."

"Mike?" you question as the man steps under an overhead light.

"Sorry to say no, little lady. Ted Cooper's the name," he says with a charming grin. His chest puffs noticeably before he extends his enormous hand to you and continues on. " _Detective_ Ted Cooper." 

You reach out and marvel as your hand is completely engulfed in Mike’s… _in_ **_Cooper’s_**. Each of his fingers are as thick as a golf ball, but his handshake is surprisingly gentle. You peer up to see the smattering of gray stubble across his cheeks making him look all the more dashing.

 _Damn, Mike must_ **_still_ ** _get in a lot of trouble._

"Can you not smoke in here, Ted?" Dex asks with a groan. “My equipment… the battle pack… it’s all very sensitive… and explosive."

"Snuff out the fag, old man! Or I'll clock you right good!" Sid barks as he eyes Cooper with contempt.

Cooper takes another drag before he rubs out his cigarette on the side of one of the computer towers. The older doppelganger’s eyebrow raises just slightly as he examines your form. 

“What a dame,” Cooper smiles before whistling to himself.

“Bloody wanker! Eyes to yourself! Your ancient bits probly don’t work anymore!” 

"Who spit in your tea, you crumpet-eating circus clown?"

The punk rocker snarls; flipping off Cooper with both hands. The agent seems unimpressed. 

Sid steps nearer to Dex and leans over to whisper loudly: "Why does the bird think everyone's 'Mike'?"

"Perhaps in her reality all males are called Mike," proposes a rough voice from the doorway. 

"Where have you been? I could have used your help on controlling the rate of the wormhole degradation," Dex bristles.

"I was securing the alcohol required to keep me from murdering all of you." The new guy sets down a large paper sack full of booze bottles on a work shelf near the door and crosses in front of you. With an irritated huff, his rough hands grab both sides of your face and he examines you like you’re some broken, inanimate object. 

_Oh my god it's Jay!_ **_The_ ** _Jay!_ God, he's even more gorgeous in person. _But why is he so pissed off?_

"This is what happens when stupid humans think they can manipulate space-time. Typical product of your inferior monkey brains."

_Wait… the leather jacket and that perfect, golden hair… it's…_

"Holy shit, you're Grigg!"

The angry Jay-clone looks authentically surprised and moves away slowly.

"I am… yes," he answers with a shocked expression. "Dex! Why does the attractive television female know of me?"

"Yeah. She knew me, too. Whut gives?" adds Sid.

"I'm not entirely sure," Dex answers. “Maybe it’s the quarks… _no, it can’t be the quarks_ …” he mutters to himself. 

“What the fuck is a quark?” Cooper asks aloud. No one responds. 

Grigg side-steps a mountain of old camping equipment to stand next to the nearly-identical, bespectacled young man and they start to read through the equations on the white board.

"Staring at all that Chinese writing is gonna rot your brains, little boys. Or turn you into commies at the very least," Cooper warns the mismatched pair. Sid flips the older gentleman off and lays back noisily on the vacated exam chair behind you.

"You're all characters," you try to explain. "Mike and Jay's characters from their movies… well at least _some_ of their movies."

"Can you guys keep it down? I'm trying to watch Oprah," announces a third, disheveled Jay in a terry-cloth bathrobe as he enters the now very-cramped room. 

"I've seen you 'watch' Oprah, you disgusting slob," Grigg growls without taking his eyes off the equations. "That is NOT _watching!"_

"Hey, don't be a dick, man. I have a heart condition!" replies the sloppy-Jay. He takes a long sip from his snowflake-emblazoned coffee mug and squints in your direction.

Homeless-looking Jay makes his way closer to you and stops in his tracks as a disarmingly cute smile appears across his face. Chest hair pokes out of the top of his stained shirt. You're pretty sure he's from _Feeding Frenzy,_ but you can't quite remember his name.

"Woah! She's just like from the movie!" he exclaims as he shuffles over to you in his fuzzy socks. His eyes pan over your frame approvingly as he scratches his beard stubble. An appreciative moan escapes from his throat before he bites his bottom lip. "Damn, she looks great!”

“You know I can see you staring at me, right?”

“Oh, shit, sorry! I'm Martin!" he apologizes and holds out a hand to you. The four other men all yelp at once.

"Don't touch those filthy mitts of his, girly!" Agent Cooper shouts. "He’s covered in his own sin! You're liable to wind up pregnant just standing that close to him."

"Ahh, come on. Don't fucking tell her that!" Martin yells. "She's gonna think I'm some kind of pervert!"

"You are ALL kinds of pervert, mate," insists Sid.

"Oh!" you chirp. The two-and-a-half pairs of MikeJays all look at you expectantly. "Speaking of that… is uh…” 

_What was his name…_

“Arlo! Is Arlo here?" you ask the group. "From _Pervert Goes Home?_ That was an early one of Jay’s movies. He looks like Dex but with an eye patch?"

You scan the crowd of Mikes and Jays, but there's no recognition to be found. 

"Sorry, no. It's just us," Dex replies softly. "Well, us and the idiot. But he's not an 'Arlo.'"

"He's an _arsehole;_ that's pretty close," Sid offers.

"Pretty close like you guys’s foreskins, right bro-seph?" 

Five men all groan in unison as a young-ish Mike in a sideways baseball cap and popped collar tiny-walks his way into the small room.

"This fucking guy," Martin laments with a sigh.

"Sup' movie lady? I'm Ronnie. I'm _sans_ personal transpo right now ‘cause of my DUI, but I am still DTF.”

“You don’t have a car because this isn’t your universe, idiot!” Grigg spits.

Ronnie pays him no attention and he nudges Martin out of the way with a hip-check. The new Mike poses in front of you; arms crossed high over his chest as he puckers out his lips like a duck. You stare at him dumbfounded for a moment and try to think...

"Oh my god, the _DudeBro?"_

"My birthday is in November, so I'm technically a _Scorpi-bro_."

"Shut the fuck up, Ronnie!" comes the exasperated voices of the other men.

"This is all.. uh…" you breathe as you try to back away from the crowd, “...a little much. Can I have… like… some space? And air? Air would be good.”

"Yeah guys! This is my lab and.. and I'm ordering you all to… uh… um.. vacate," Dex announces timidly. 

No one listens.

"OI!! Bugger off, the lot of ya!" Sid screams from behind you. He chases after Ronnie; kicking the similar-looking man in the ankles until the DudeBro is completely out of the room. Finally, the rest of the group starts to awkwardly shuffle backwards towards the exit, watching you with interest on their way out.

"Come on, fellas. This poor dame got her brains all scrambled! She's hysterical! We’ll get out of here, dollface, and let you have your monthlies in peace."

“My **what**?” 

Cooper closes the door and you’re left alone with Dex. He mumbles to himself as soon as they're all gone: 

"What a shit… _ass…_ face… man," he trails off. 

You stand in silence for a moment trying to steady your breathing. The lights along the wall flash in strange patterns while Dex rocks back and forth on his heels; chewing his lip.

"What the hell am I doing here, Dex?" you laugh before sitting back down on the exam chair. 

"Well, uh… I can run you through the simpler math," Dex explains as he reaches for the white board, "but it might take a while to work up to the higher-level physics and you've only got a few hours left."

"I wake up soon?"

"This isn't a dream," he insists. "I'm real, they're real, even _you're_ real. Although, in this reality, you're usually just a character in a guilty-pleasure movie from the late 60’s." He pulls the cap off of a white-erase marker and you reach out to hold him by the wrist. 

"Instead of getting into the technical side of things… can you explain it to me like I'm a child?"

"Uh.. maybe…" Dex starts. "Well, there are infinite universes, kinda stacked on top of each other... like… uh, pancakes. If you can conceive of a reality, that reality actually exists somewhere, and with infinite variations on that reality.

"In one pancake, I’m the commander of the Enterprise and you’re my first officer. In another, everything is exactly the same, but ducks don't exist and there's 32 letters in the alphabet. In another, you’re the captain and I’m just a petty science officer. And on and on like that for infinity.”

“Pancakes. Got it,” you answer as your brow furrows.

“I found out a way to open a gateway into other realities and… uh… _borrow…_ someone… for a little while." Dex replies, looking nervous.

_God, he’s adorable._

“Wow! You actually figured out interdimensional travel? That’s fucking amazing!” you reply, completely awe-struck. You look up at Dex to see his cheeks go instantly pink. 

You think back to the movie for a second - you don’t recall any of his friends ever telling Dex he was smart. Not even Julie. He made a fucking nuclear guitar and Sid didn’t even say thanks. Or pay him, for that matter.

 _This guy is surrounded by ungrateful assholes_.

You might as well fix some of that while you can; the poor guy deserves a little encouragement.

“And you did this all on your own? That's so amazing. I don’t think Commander Data himself could have pulled that off, even if he had Geordi and Spock to assist him.”

Dex’s body begins to shudder at the compliment. You can hear him whispering to himself as his body shakes: _“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod... Keep it together, Dex. Keeeeeep it together.”_

“You okay?” you smirk.

Dex gets himself mostly under control, but his hands still fidget wildly as he tries to find a place for them. He finally shoves them in the pockets of his lab coat. 

“Nothing,” he maintains as his cheeks burn red. “Wait, what? I mean, I’m fine. _Sometimes I just get excited._ Uh.. Mr. Data is a personal inspiration to me is all. Means a lot. Uh.. thank.. thank you.” His eyes dart all over your face before he clears his throat. “It uh, took me a few tries to get it right. I nabbed Martin a week ago. He really didn’t seem to mind, though. He mostly just hangs out in front of the tv all day.”

"Can we watch it?” you ask excitedly. “My movie?”

“Oh! Yeah, sure. If you want. It would be a real honor to watch it with you.”

“Lead the way. Please.” 

You smile encouragingly and Dex motions to the door on the far end of the storage room. He opens it for you and you step into the basement from _Gorilla Interrupted_. 

Most of a drum set is propped against the yellow cinder block wall next to huge posters of Metallica and KISS. Shattered remains of several guitars are shoved into a corner and the sagging ceiling tiles overhead are all discolored from water damage and full of holes.

The old ping-pong table in the center of the room has been replaced by two couches - currently occupied by three Mikes and two Jays of various ages and outfits. An episode of _The Care Boars_ plays on the old tube television between a set of stairs and what looks to be a laundry room.

"Hey! She wants to watch the movie!" Dex shouts.

Sid is over-the-the-moon thrilled and punches straight up at the ceiling _(Well that explains all the holes)._

Surprisingly, everyone else looks pretty damn excited with the prospect of watching the movie, too.

_Man, that must be one hell of a film._

Jay… no, **Dex**... sprints to the tv and returns a second later with an empty VHS case. 

"Me and Sid love your movie, as you know. But we’ve shown it to the other guys and they think it’s amazing, too. Well, not the movie so much, but you IN the movie, I mean."

You take a hold of the box when Dex offers. Right there, smiling seductively on the cover, is… well, YOU. It’s clearly your body, your face, your hair color... everything. Except for the whole part where you're posed like Betty Page in an animal print bikini and tattered lab coat, riding a T-rex with a machine gun in your hand. But it's still definitely you.

“The fuck?” you laugh loudly.

You flip the box over to see stills from the movie itself. Looks like a mixture of _Barbarella_ and _Zardoz,_ with bizarre, post-apocalyptic costumes and strong sexual overtones. You appear in every photo; your hair done up in a different, vintage style in each picture. 

In one, you’re wearing a tall beehive as you examine a glowing chemistry set in an underground laboratory. In another, you’re sporting huge victory-roll curls and singing at what looks like a heavy metal concert, but the audience is all dinosaurs. 

You finally read the title of the movie; written in huge red letters on the side of the box.

_Doctor Reptilica: Earth Angel from Mars._

“What? What does that even mean?!” Your head falls back as you laugh hysterically. “This looks so fucking awful and incredible,” you chortle. “ _Who would…?_ what?… oh my god…How is this possible?” 

Dex pushes his glasses back up and points to your picture on the cover. 

“Long story short: In your universe, we’re movie characters. In this universe, **you** are. Well, for a little while at least. The wormhole is collapsing tonight and then you’ll go home.”

“It looks like one fantastic film,” you reply honestly. All of the men in the basement breathe a sigh of relief. 

As hilarious as it must be, you're not exactly ready to watch it. _This is all too bizarre._ You hand the box back to Dex and try to make a joke to lighten the mood:

"So, uh... who do I have to screw to get a drink around here?" you ask the room.

Six sets of eyes go wide just before the men all clamor to get off the ratty couches.

"The lady needs booze!" shouts Cooper. 

"Not from you, you old bahstard!" Sid yells as he smacks the agent in the jaw. 

Martin manages to crawl over Ronnie, kneeing the poor moron in the face on his way over the back of the couch. "Get your junk out of my face, bro!"

"You're not my bro, asshole. She said she wants a drink!"

"Only chicks say 'asshole,' douchebag!" barks the DudeBro as Martin makes a break for the stairs.

"You will not touch anything of hers!" Grigg snaps at Martin before grabbing his bathrobe and shoving him against the wall. Cooper catches Grigg’s foot on the second step and the alien-man falls hard. Sid climbs over the smaller Jay on his way up. "Fuck you, lizard boy!"

You look to Dex, still fidgeting awkwardly at your side, as the violence continues up the stairwell.

"Huh... they, uh… they seem pretty desperate to impress," you marvel. "Do you not have any women in this universe?"

"No, we do. We do. Just not like you," Dex says before shrugging matter-of-factly. "To all of us, you're basically a dream come true." 

_Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?_

You try to keep your shock in check as Dex pulls a flask out of a pocket on his lab coat. He hands it to you without making eye contact and you take a tentative swig.

_Whiskey._

You take one more pull. And then another for good measure.

The ceiling above you squeaks and groans as the other Mikes and Jays continue to battle over getting your drink. It sounds like two of the Mikes are wrestling pretty violently- then someone breaks a chair? _Or maybe it was a table._

This can't possibly get any weirder. 

_Can it?_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time the movie's been queued up properly, you have one beer, a hard cider, a shot, a glass of white wine, and a fancy-looking cocktail all set out on an old tv tray in front of you.

Cooper single-handedly carried down a leather recliner just for you so no one would fight over who sat next to you on either of the couches. The three Mikes and three Jays stand in a rough semi-circle around your chair, waiting patiently for to choose your first drink.

Martin rubs the blood away from his nose and points at the tray. ( _It seems the fighting was not without casualties.)_ “You’ll like mine the best; goes really well with bad-movie-watching. Do you need a pillow or something?"

“She doesn’t want any of that, you slob!” Grigg reprimands. A fresh black eye is forming above his chiseled cheekbone. “Females have more refined taste receptors. She will choose mine.” 

“This bird’s classy - unlike you fuck-twats! She’ll drink mine,” Sid exclaims as he rubs his red knuckles.

"She needs your terrible booze like she needs a hole in the head! I got her what she wants," insists Cooper.

"Actually, guys…" Your words trail off as you search their somewhat bruised (still very handsome) faces. 

Every version of Mike is somehow more attractive than the last. Each pair of Jay's pink lips beg to be nibbled. You try to pick a favorite and... _god, they're all perfect._

Words trickle out of your mouth: 

“...you shouldn’t fight like that... over **me** of all people...”

Damn you want to see the movie… You're a sexy cavewoman-scientist-rock star… _**riding a damn T-rex!** When are you gonna get another opportunity to see that? _

“...but do you think maybe…? If anyone is up for it…””

_When will you have a chance like this?_

“...what with me only being here for a few hours and all….”

_Just look at all of them; lined up like beauty contestants and hanging on your every, babbling word._

“...I’m not normally the kind of girl who… _uh..."_

It's a sexy buffet and you can't decide what to grab before the restaurant closes. You glance down to the tray full of booze in front of you and an idea begins to take form.

 _"…_ I just think we could be _diplomatic._.. about this... ”

You lick your lips and watch as six sets of eyes peer intently at your mouth. Two Jays and a Mike adjust themselves openly, while the others try to cover their growing arousal by shifting their weight and coughing. 

Your gaze travels from Sid to Dex, with Grigg, Cooper, Martin and Ronnie in between them. The room seems to warm up by twenty degrees.

_They all seem up for anything._

"Do you… do you boys remember which drink you each brought me?"

All of them nod quickly. 

"Good. Good,” you smile. “And… um… does everyone here know the game 'Seven Minutes in Heaven?' or is that just a 'my universe' thing?"

Dex raises his hand like a school boy and clears his throat, “Uh…. actually…. its… it’s ‘TEN Minutes in Heaven’ in this universe.”

“Even better,” you reply sweetly. “So, gentlemen, if I chose your drink, I chose you. Ten minutes. Laundry room. Whatever I want. And _no more_ fighting.”

The men all exchange glances amongst themselves for a long moment and seem to come to an understanding. They look back to you with anticipation. 

"Excellent,” you announce happily. “So who all wants to play?"

Six heart-stopping smiles answer your question before you finish the sentence.

"Then let's get started."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was such long intro! But I wanted to make sure that the multiverse made sense and that all of the lads had a good reason to want to shag the reader. Plus, I just had too much fun having the various Mikes and Jays interact with each other. 
> 
> This was mostly based on reader request, as well as one of my favorite dreams. I'm not sure when I'll update, but each guy will have his own chapter eventually. 
> 
> Are you looking forward to anyone in particular? What do you think so far? Let me know here or on my [tumblr](https://rlmfanfic.tumblr.com/).


	2. The Flask - Dex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

Your eyes pan over the rickety tv tray searching for your first boozy selection; trying to connect each drink with its owner. Five lovely drinks and five handso… no, _six_ handsome men. A quick look up to see Dex muttering miserably to himself makes you realize you've already had a drink.

"I chose the flask."

"What flask?" Martin scoffs.

"Yeah, lady. Whattaya talking about?" Cooper inquires.

"The one in his pocket," you announce cheerfully and point to the young Jay across the room. "While the rest of you were beating each other senseless, Dex already got me a drink." 

All eyes shift to Dex; currently not breathing as he stands motionless between Cooper and Sid.

"Babe, don't waste your time on the little dork," Ronnie insists.

"Oi! Only I get to call him that, you fuckin' cunt!" Sid screams as he dashes toward the DudeBro. He grabs a fist full of Ronnie's popped collar and reaches back for a punch.

"No more fighting!" you shout. "Or I'll throw the rest of these drinks down the drain right now!"

The punk rocker quickly releases his hold on Ronnie's shirt and moves away; smiling his apologies.

"Sorry love, won’t happen again."

"Good," you declare. "But that was... strangely sweet of you, Sid."

The young Mike scoffs at your praise, but the faintest signs of a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. 

"I chose Dex. He's cute and he's smart and he's the only reason I'm here." 

The other men nod slowly, signs of frustration evident on all of their faces. Grigg falls back to the couch on your right and huffs angrily. Ronnie wipes his eyes and sniffles once, but tries to play it off like he sneezed.

"Guys, don't worry. It’s my _first_ drink; I didn't say my _only._ I'm feeling pretty damn thirsty tonight."

You lost line of sight to Dex in the scuffle, but he comes back into view when you stand up from the leather recliner - still wide-eyed, barely breathing, and totally still.

"So how's about it, Commander? Would you care to join me in the ready room?"

You and the five other men focus intently on Dex as a long, nervous groan begins to emanate from his compact form. Other than some sporadic blinking, he doesn't move. 

Martin crosses to Dex and reaches to hold the younger man by the shoulders. 

"Dude, if you don't get in that room right now, I'm stealing your glasses and that lab coat and heading in there myself. Do it for all of us, man."

Dex manages a jerky nod and finally takes a few timid steps toward the laundry room. You grab his hand and pull him the rest of the way; shutting the door behind you both. You use the little hook latch on the wall to make sure you’re not disturbed.

The nervous nerd makes his way to the tumbling dryer before turning back to you. He clears his throat once and motions to the door with his index finger. 

"Sorry... uh... I... I used to have a better lock on that door, but my neighbor broke it a while ago in a fit of, uh… gorilla rage."

"Right! Yeah, Rich… er, _Ray_... has gotta be here,” you think aloud. “Oh, does that mean Julie is here, too?"

Dex's eyes squint before he shakes his head in the negative. "I don't know a Julie. Maybe one in elementary school, I think."

"Wait, really?" you reply; quite confused. "Then why did you meet Satan? Weren't you trying to save her?"

"No, it was our… uh.. _friend.._ Jacob," Dex answers nervously.

"No!” you scream. “Goddamn it! NO!!! FUCK! **Jacob** is here? He's the **_fucking_ **worst! This was the best damn dream I've ever had until I heard that."

"It's not a dream," Dex insists. "It's an alternate reality. And Jacob _was_ here, but we couldn't get him out of hell."

"Oh my god, are you serious?!" you chuckle. You feel guilty laughing, but then again… 

"Yeah,” Dex answers. “But... he _was_ kind of the worst.”

"You honestly have no idea.”

Dex's prominent front teeth pop out over his bottom lip as he snickers softly. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and his bright eyes gleam through the smudged lenses.

"So are you gonna kiss me, Dex?" you ask as demurely as you can.

He fidgets awkwardly and his chin crashes down into his chest. He mutters something you don’t quite catch before smacking his face with both hands; groaning miserably.

“What's wrong?”

"Yeah... I'd like to... _of course I…_ but I don't… I haven’t ever… uh… _god, this is embarrassing…_ ” he groans. 

“It’s totally fine, Dex,” you smile warmly. “Don’t worry about it."

You reach and grab the lapels of his white jacket, but his eyes stay focused straight down.

“Oh god, and I forgot to take off my lab coat!” he grovels. “You don't have… aww, HECK! And I’m still wearing my Star Trek shirt, Jesus!”

There's something so incredibly appealing about his awkwardness. He's a fluffy, frightened little bunny and you don't know whether to cuddle him or eat him.

_Probably both._

Your hands glide up the length of Dex's white coat before moving to cup his jawline. The faintest whisper of beard stubble can be felt when you run the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks.

When his eyes finally meet yours, you smirk cheerfully at him, smoothing down a loose strand of hair behind his ear. He's biting so hard into his bottom lip that you're afraid he might break the skin.

"If you're nervous about it, how about I just teach you how to kiss?" you propose as you run your thumbs along his cheekbones. "And it won't have to count as your first, because it's practice."

Dex's soft green eyes flitter around the room as his huge brain dissects your proposition. 

"Oh! Uh… yeah. That could… yeah, that could work... Because preliminary experiments and observations are almost always required before even the first hypothesis," he reasons aloud. His head nods quickly in your hands. 

"I think I can do thaa…" he starts as you bring his face up to meet yours. Dex's shoulders shoot up to his ears and his eyes go wide as you press your lips to his. He exhales forcefully against your cheek and you smile against his mouth. 

You suck gently across his bottom lip, humming appreciatively at the minty taste. His eyes finally close when your tongue glides over the seam of his mouth. 

Dex whimpers softly when you nibble his lip and you wonder if you've gone too far too soon. You pull away from him, but still hold on to the sides of his face; rubbing gentle circles over his cheeks. 

His eyes stay closed and his lips pucker adorably as he stays completely still. 

"Dex?" you question. His lashes flutter when you start to giggle. 

"Yeah?" he breathes. "Whassa? What's tha? Huh?" 

You press your lips to his twice more, making _'mwah!'_ noises after each one. 

"God, you are so cute, Dex!"

"Imma… I'm what?"

"You're **cute** … attractive… handsome... Whatever you want to call it," you laugh. “And you taste like toothpaste, which is kind of great.”

Dex blinks a dozen times in quick succession; trying to clear his head. His finger presses hard into the center of foggy glasses, trying to place them back on the bridge of his nose. His sweat makes them drift back down almost immediately.

"You think... I'm... _cute?_ " he questions. "Really?"

Your hands move up from his cheeks to run through his messy brown hair. 

"Of course I do,” you chuckle softly. “Your lab coat, your unevenly-cuffed pant legs, your perfect overbite. Everything about you is cute.”

His brow furrows adorably as he tries to make any kind of sense of that information.

"Would you mind if we move to lesson two?" you ask as your hands drift down his neck and over his shoulders.

"Wait…" he stumbles. "Was that not kissing before? Did I not…? Uh, I don't know if I have the fundamentals down yet."

"The next lesson is really just a test to make sure you were paying attention," you assure him. You rest your hands down by your sides. "Do to me what I did to you."

"Oh! Yeah. Okay. _Yes._ I can… yes, I can do.. I can do that… uh… _probably."_

He wipes his balmy hands over his lab coat several times, chewing his lips all the while. 

"Right. Just gotta... okay…"

You smile wide as Dex looks over your face. He wets his lips once before locking his gaze onto your mouth. 

"Apply mild pressure," he mutters to himself. "Gentle suction… moderate nibbling... Okay."

His hands reach up and cup your jaw line delicately. He searches your face for a moment before running the tip of his thumb over the corner of your mouth. 

"Its just practice, remember?" you remind him. "Don't worry if you make a mista…"

Dex's mouth moves to cover yours and whatever stupid thought you had evaporates. His right hand moves to the back of your neck, bringing your face forward to meet his own. 

Your eyes drift shut as he sucks softly at your lips. 

His left hand stays cupped around your cheek, but his thumb pulls tenderly at your bottom lip. You open your mouth by just a sliver and feel his tongue searching for yours.

You moan quietly before opening to him. His thick tongue delves past your lips and you’re overwhelmed by the sweet peppermint taste of him. 

Your knees feel weak and you reach under Dex's arms to hold on to his shoulders. 

He moves away just enough to plant soft, suckling kisses across your mouth and down your jaw. Dex's sharp teeth scrape against your skin as he makes his way to your neck. 

"Holy shit, Dex.. are you sure you've never done this befooo…oh, oh my god!" you pant. His mouth opens against your ear and you hear him whispering notes to himself between kisses.

"... positive response to additional stimuli...

"...heart rate increased...

"...further experimentation necessary..."

His amazing overbite digs into the flesh directly under your earlobe. 

"You…" you try to form a sentence as Dex's tongue laves down your neck. "You can bite me… if you'd li…" 

Your words morph into an instinctual moan, equal parts pleasure and pain, when Dex's teeth sink into the warming skin just above your clavicle.

"Holy shit," you growl. "How are you…? God damn, Dex!” you laugh as his tongue licks up your pulse point. “And here I thought I was going to have to pick you up and ravage you myself."

Dex pulls himself away from your neck with a wet pop. 

"So I should…? Oh. Okay… sure, _I think I can…_ yeah… I can do that," he thinks aloud.

"Wait, what?" you inquire, swaying where you stand; delirious and competely wasted off of Dex's delightful kisses.

Without a word, Dex reaches down to the back of your thighs and hikes you up against his chest. 

“What the fuck?!” you chirp and reach for Dex’s shoulders. “You can carry me?!”

His words are muffled by your t-shirt, but you manage to catch: “... simple matter…. identifying the fulcrum… leverage… basic physics...”

He walks a few steps back to the dryer and drops you on top of the vibrating machine.

“Damn, you are just full of surprises,” you laugh against his ear. 

He steps between your knees and you immediately wrap your legs around his hips. His swollen, pink lips are back on yours before you can form another coherent thought. Dex's tongue plunges into your mouth in perfect harmony with the warm laundry tumbling in the dryer under your ass. 

Both of your hands rake up the back of his neck to coil your fingers in his sandy-brown hair. You whimper desperately as the delicious dork kisses you for all you’re worth. You dig your right heel into his back to bring his body closer to your center and he growls into your mouth. His pale hands grab your lower back and pull you forward to the edge of the dryer. 

Your vision goes white when your thin pajamas meet the front of Dex’s pants. For a brief moment, you think that must be a belt buckle, but as his hips grind into you again, you realise that Dex has been hiding the missing couple of inches from his height somewhere else; somewhere **_far_** more fun. 

You pull away from his intense kisses and try to catch your breath. 

“Wow, Dex! How are you…? Wow!” is the best you can manage. You remove your nails from his scalp and try to untangle your legs from around his hips. 

His eyebrows perk up to his hairline. 

“Did I do it wrong?” he questions before his head falls down to his chest. “I did it wrong. Dang it!” he grumbles. 

“No! Dex! Are you kidding me?!” you giggle. Dex flinches at your laughter and steps away. “Shit! Dex, no! You’re amazing! You’re absolutely fucking perfect. Ten out of ten, five stars, all of that.”

“You don’t have to try to make me feel better,” he replies quietly. 

_Hmm..._

You might be approaching this from the wrong angle. You search your nerdy knowledge base and try to come up with something he might understand. _Hopefully, they have some of the same movies here._ You place your hands on the edge of the dryer next to your thighs and lean forward; beaming happily as Dex avoids eye contact.

“That was like… the opening scene from _Star Wars_ where the Imperial Destroyer just keeps going and going. Or the moment that they crossed streams in _Ghostbusters_. Or the first time you see the dinosaurs in _Jurassic Park_. Totally unexpected, but just fucking awe-inspiring. The kind of moment that sticks with you forever.”

Dex’s looks up to you over his wire glasses and cracks a crooked grin.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really! I promise!” you reply as your ankles tap softly on the door of the dryer. “Like all of that stuff, but… _you know…_ really fucking sexy, too.” 

Dex’s cheeks go red and the color quickly spreads to the tips of his ears. 

“You… You are.. uh… _pretty._ And you smell good… also…" he tries. You’re not sure if those are his exact words from the movie, but they have to be damn close. The familiar line and the shy smile on his face makes you giggle. 

“Thank you, Dex.”

“Can… uh… can we go to the third lesson?” he asks hopefully. “For practice?”

“I’d love to, but you _really_ don’t need any more lessons. I honestly don’t think there’s anything you wouldn’t be amazing at.”

Dex’s eyes fall to the floor and he sighs softly. 

"Dex, I'm serious. Whoever gets to be counted as your first kiss… they're going to be the luckiest fucking person in this universe," you breathe.

“Can I count you?” he replies softly. 

“Of course you can!” you giggle. “Oh, wow! That means I’m actually the luckiest person in TWO universes!” 

Dex’s overbite is displayed in all of its glory as he smiles wide. You grab his white lapels and pull him to stand between your legs. 

“I’m happy to have gotten any time with you, Dex,” you whisper against his lips. You kiss up over his cheek and flick your tongue across his earlobe. His tight frame jolts between your thighs. “But I’m not sure how much time we left and there’s one more thing I just _have_ to do.”

Dex doesn’t manage an actual response to that, but the groan that escapes from him as you bite into his neck seems very encouraging.

Two steamy minutes later, a loud bang steals away you from your hard work. 

“Time’s up, you twat!” Sid barks as he slams his fist on the door. You place one last kiss on Dex’s soft lips and give him a contented smile. You hop off of the dryer and unlatch the lock before stepping back out into the basement; retaking your seat on the leather recliner. The remaining two Jays and three Mikes look at you expectantly. 

“So whut? Did he read you the manual to his microscope?” Sid laughs. 

“Or did he just cry the whole time?” Ronnie adds with a snort. Sid’s eyes narrow as he glares daggers at the other Mike.

Dex finally steps out of the laundry room and they all gasp. 

“Holy mackerel, son! You look like you’ve been attacked by an octopus!” Cooper marvels. 

Dex’s glasses barely grip his face and his hair sticks out in twelve, sweaty directions. His white lab coat is pulled down to his elbows and the collar of his Starfleet shirt has been stretched out noticeably. Nine deep purple hickies are visible across his neck; four on one side, five on the other. His lips are swollen and red and he looks completely drunk. 

Grigg and Martin look at each other and slap a quick high-five. 

“Fuck, Dex! You look a right mess!" Sid yells and wraps his arms around the smaller man. "I’m so fuckin’ proud of you!” He lifts Dex off the floor in a back-breaking hug. 

“Uh… _thanks…_ I guess,” Dex replies with a small smile as Sid sets him down. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and tries to right his jacket. He and Sid move to take a seat on the old couch to your right, but Ronnie is man-spreading too widely for them to both fit. 

Dex leans down and the smile disappears from his face. He rips off Ronnie’s baseball cap and throws it against the wall. He points a single finger in the Dudebro's face and the room goes quiet.

 **“Get the** **_fuck_ ** **off of my couch."**

The young Mike’s eyes go wide and he moves quickly to the opposite side of the room. Sid’s surprised expression conveys both immense pride and authentic fear. 

You run your hand over the remaining drinks and inhale deeply. 

“Now then, gentlemen. Let’s see what's next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh how I love a nerdy man. Keep your muscle-bound jocks, your action stars, and your models. Give me Commander Data, Herbert West, and Ben Wyatt. 
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter! I'm planning to make the story as flexible as the reader might like. So perhaps she has one drink, perhaps three, or (if you're anything like me) all six. I always read like five different scenarios in any "7 Minutes in Heaven" story I read. Maybe I want to make out with Loki, and the Winter Solider, AND Cap, AND Natasha - don't I deserve that? 
> 
> Did you like my Dex? Who do you want to see next? How are you? Let me know in the comments or stop by my [tumblr](https://rlmfanfic.tumblr.com/).


	3. The Cocktail - Cooper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

You hum a happy little tune as you survey the remaining drinks. One of the ice cubes in the fancy-looking cocktail cracks and catches your attention. The beverage looks professionally made, with a perfect twist of orange peel and a single cherry for garnish. 

You pick up the low-ball glass and swirl it gently, watching the golden alcohol churn under the terrible fluorescent light of Dex's basement.

Four men (you’re not sure which ones) groan with annoyance as you bring the icy beverage to your lips. The bourbon is strong, but nicely complimented by simple syrup and splash of bitters. The mouth-watering scent of orange zest floods your senses when you inhale over the glass.

"An old fashioned," you smile and lick the citrus taste from your lips. "And a damn good one at that. I wonder who here knows the value in making a lady the perfect cocktail?"

"Well I don't mean to brag, but my doctor said I have the liver of a Kentucky bootlegger," Cooper smiles.

"Why would you acquire something like that?" Grigg asks seriously. 

"Sod off, piss weasel," Sid snaps at the alien Jay. "He's sayin he’s deep in the sauce! He's an ol' Saucy Saucerton."

"Well that explains the beer gut," Martin surmises acerbically before slurping from his coffee mug.

"Actually,” you start. “Cooper here is proof that you and Ronnie are still hot in twenty years," you chide the punk rocker. "I'd be a little nicer to him if I were you."

"Choke on my balls, old man!" Sid barks at Cooper. 

"Come on dude," Dex sighs. “Can you at least _try_ to be nice?”

Sid rolls his eyes and gives it another shot. This time, he puts on his best Oliver Twist voice: "Please, sir…. might you choke on my balls?"

Ronnie giggles in his seat. “Heh,” he laughs. “ _Balls_.”

"Don’t pay any mind to these angry sad-sacks, missy,” Cooper instructs. “I think the scientist and the little boy in the leather jacket stole all the smarts out of the rest of them. Probably with one of their shiny sci-fi whosiwhatsits.”

Martin scratches his nose with his middle finger and glares at the older detective. Grigg runs a hand over his golden beard; seemingly wondering if he actually _could_ steal the brains of the others.

“In any event sweetheart, you’ve got yourself a date with the only man in the room,” Cooper relays as he offers you his hand. You take it gently and he helps you out of the recliner. (Not that you need any help, of course, but it is kinda sweet.)

Cooper's long jacket billows around him as walks in front of you and opens the door to the laundry. He waits for you to step inside before closing it behind himself. 

The dryer along the far wall tumbles quietly when you turn to face him. You try your best to look at least _somewhat_ seductive in your old t-shirt and pajama pants and shoot him a terrible line:

"So, Cooper... You, uh.. you come around this reality often?” 

Your attempt at comedy is completely lost on the detective as he pulls at his collar. His dark eyes roam up and down your body like a butcher sizing up a piece of meat. 

“Lady, if I had four quarters to give to the four prettiest women in this universe, you'd have a dollar."

You blush despite yourself and smile broadly at the older Mike. 

“Wow!” you giggle. “And here I thought **_my_ **line was cheesy!” 

Cooper appears completely unphased; his dark eyes roam over your body as a smirk forms on his face. You take a few small steps to meet him nearer the door and marvel at his impressive frame. Your fingers glide over his shimmering badge. 

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen something so impressive," you smile.

His thick index finger slips under his collar and he pulls the starched white fabric away from his throat. 

"It’s pure silver for ten years on the force," he explains proudly.

"I was actually talking about you," you flirt with as much moxy as you can muster.

Cooper’s tie bobs with a hard swallow and you laugh breathily before placing your hand over the end of his black necktie by his belt line.

“Could I help you with that, Detective?” you purr as your hand roams up his tie through the center of his chest. Cooper manages a quick nod before two of your fingers snake over the knot of his tie. 

You pull down on the silky fabric and the older Mike peers down at you with a raised eyebrow. 

"You are some kind of woman," Cooper breathes.

"Why thank you, Ted." 

Hearing his first name on your lips sets a fire behind his eyes. You hear a low growl rumble deep in his chest. 

Cooper throws his left arm around your back and pulls you close. His huge right hand reaches for the nape of your neck just before he dips you backwards over his knee. You lose your balance and one of your feet lifts off of the ground, but Ted holds you perfectly in place. 

Your stunned eyes find his; gazing down serenely as he runs his thumb over your jawline.

You feel light as a feather in his arms. Holding your full weight with just one arm seems totally effortless to him.

"I've been stuck in this crummy universe for three days now and the only bright part has been seeing your beautiful face," Ted confides as his eyes drift over your features. "You're an angel crashed to earth, doll."

You wrap your arm up around his neck as Cooper presses his lips to yours. His cologne is strong and crisp; like ice-covered pine needles in the dead of winter.

His lips stay tightly closed as he hums against your mouth. 

…

Still tightly closed. 

...

_Ummm..._

...

“Hmpph," you mutter against his mouth. 

…

Ted grinds his tight lips over yours… Still utterly, completely closed.

...

You open your eyes in disbelief while Cooper gently mashes his face into yours. 

...

Another moment more and he leans away.

He pivots slightly and pulls you back up to stand up straight. 

_Uhhhh…_

_What…._

_What was THAT?_

"I figured someone oughta kiss you properly," Ted says proudly. His chest puffs out so so wide that he strains the buttons on the front of his shirt. "If you need some time to get yourself together again, sweet cheeks, I'll understand."

You try to blink yourself back to the present; keeping your eyes squarely on Cooper. 

His black eyebrow inches up to his hairline as he shoots you a smoldering look. 

_He’s clearly_ **_quite_ ** _pleased with himself._

The laughter bursts out of you so quickly that you wonder if it came from someone else. Your hands quickly shoot up to your mouth to try to keep some of the more unflattering giggles inside, but it’s not much use. 

“What the hell was that, Cooper?” you chitter. 

Ted’s handsome face contorts with confusion and deep lines appear across his forehead.

“Oh, you poor girly,” he mutters. “I kissed the dickens out of you. I should have been more careful, I know I can have that effect on women.”

The laughter spurts through your fingers and you nearly fall over. 

“Ted! Come on man. Did people not kiss in the 40’s?”

Ted looks like you knocked the wind out of him. _With a car._

“What… whattaya mean?”

“Well, I can confidently say I’ve never been kissed like that before, but uh… hmm,” you convey with a sour face. “Not… not what I was expecting.”

Cooper gawks at you like you’ve got three heads. 

“Wait, what? I mean, I know I'm no kind of Casanova, but I’ve kissed a fair number of dames. Never had any complaints,” Cooper relays with a perplexed glance to the floor. His chest deflates as his brow furrows. “I… I guess I **am** out of practice,” he admits sadly. "Sixty years out of practice, at last count."

“Oh god, I’m sorry, Cooper! I didn’t mean it was awful… it's just.. it was different," you try to explain.

The agent’s shoulders sag and he tries to rub the wrinkles out of his forehead. 

"I thought for sure I'd blow your socks right off," he mumbles as he looks angrily at the cheap laminate floor of the laundry room. 

“Seriously, Ted. The dip was… **_amazing_** ," you try. "But don’t you ever… you know… like... use your tongue… a little? Maybe open your mouth a bit?”

You think you can actually hear the wheels in Cooper's head grind to a halt. 

“You mean…” Cooper whispers incredulously. He looks over his shoulder towards the door and lowers his voice even further: “...like a **_French_ **girl?” 

“Uh… I guess so?” you reply with a giggle. 

His chocolate brown eyes go wide with shock, but there’s just enough mischievousness behind them to warm your blood. “You want me to kiss you like a _French_ girl?!”

“If that means what I think it means, then yes," you reply happily. 

“Well hot damn!” Cooper shouts as he slaps his hands together. The thunderous clap from his large appendages reverberates through the small laundry room. You lean over sharply to your left and make sure the hook latch is closed, just in case any of the other lads might try to burst in and check on you. 

_Still locked up tight. That’s good._

When you finally look back to the older Mike, his dashing smile nearly knocks you on your ass. Those perfect, pointy ears perk up to the ceiling as his grin widens. Ted’s teeth twinkle brightly just before he flicks his tongue over his canine.

“You know, where I come from, a gentleman keeps that sort of thing reserved for marriage,” Cooper relays. He cocks his head slightly and scratches his beard stubble with the tip of his thumb. “But if that's what you're in the mood for, I could certainly oblige.” 

You feel your cheeks burn red as the detective inches closer. The gray hair at his temples flashes silver when he steps in front of the dangling overhead light. His long jacket and square shoulders engulf you in shadow and you have the distinct impression you're about to be devoured whole.

His right hand moves to hold your neck as he buries his left in your hair. Ted cranes your face up to meet his. His beautiful brown eyes look obsidian in the poor light of the laundry room. You feel his long trench coat curl around you as he pulls you close. 

"Do you… uh," you stutter nervously as Cooper's huge palm cups your cheek. "Do you think you could do the dip thing again?"

His long eyelashes flutter closed as he leans down to press his lips to yours. His pillowy-soft kiss is soft and sweet, but he lingers there for only a moment before you feel him pull away. Your eyes stay shut, but you feel Ted’s wide smile against your cheek.

"Just try and stop me, dollface.”

Cooper’s right hand whips down to your waist as he dips you back over his knee. You lose your footing again, but his strong arms hold you steady. Your surprised yelp is instantly quieted when Cooper’s lips find yours. His warm tongue parts your lips and you open yourself to him immediately. Your senses flood with the taste of top-shelf bourbon and fresh orange peel as the older Mike deepens the kiss. 

Your tongues meet just inside of your mouth and slowly slide against one another. His salt-and-pepper beard stubble scratches against your chin, but you can't bring yourself to care.

Ted sucks tenderly at your bottom lip and you melt into his arms; drinking in the sweet taste of his lips and the crisp pine scent of his cologne. Cooper's right hand slides down further and digs into the flesh just above your ass. 

His arms pull you up further and you whimper softly as his pink tongue plunges further into your mouth. You reach up and graze your fingertips over his cheeks to run down the edge of his ear. Your neck cranes up to him as he begins to pull away. 

Cooper's dark, bedroom eyes slowly survey your face and he leans down to plant another soft peck to your swelling lips. 

He gently pivots you back up into your feet before smoothing one hand though the dark hair near his temple. Your brain sloshes mostly back into place.

"Sorry, to cut you off like that, girly. But my body isn't what it used to be," Cooper relays with regret.

"Oh! God, don't be sorry, Ted! That was incredible!" you beam as you come back to your senses. "I'm sorry if I hurt...

 _"You're_ not the problem dollface. It's the damn angle. I took a bullet in the hip from some beatnik back in '43." 

"I'm amazed you were able to hold me like that at all! I mean, I'm probably not the biggest girl in this reality, but I'm certainly not the smallest."

Agent Cooper looks at you with a puzzled expression and quickly shakes his head in disdain. 

"It's fine, Cooper. Honestly. You don't have to apol _OOOoooh my god!"_ you sputter as Ted kneels down, places his right arm behind your knees, and lifts you up into a full bridal-carry. 

"Holy shit!" you gasp and reach both arms around Cooper's neck. You kick twice as he lifts you five feet off the ground, but Ted's grip holds steady.

"Like I was sayin', ya daffy dame," Ted relays with a heart-stopping grin. "It was just the angle."

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours again. You hope your happy little coos into Cooper's mouth properly convey your astonishment. Your tongue chases after his and you smile against his scratchy 5-o'clock shadow.

The sweet, earthy taste of him beyond enticing and you nibble lightly at his plumping bottom lip. His arms wrap you up even tighter and you giggle happily when he returns your lustful little bites with equal enthusiasm.

Cooper's sharp nose presses into your cheek while his tongue rolls over yours. Your fingers rifle through Ted's black hair and his deep groan reverberates through your body.

There's no telling how long he holds you like that; his thick arms wrapped around you tightly, making you feel warm and protected and unmistakably turned on.

Ted eventually lowers his arm from under your knees and sets you back on the floor of the laundry room. You keep your hands behind his neck as long as you can, but the height difference makes it increasingly difficult. You finally settle on running your fingers down the long khaki lapels of his overcoat. 

"Of all the basements in all the worlds in all the universes, you walked into this one," Cooper sighs. He runs a thick thumb under your chin and you crane upwards to look into those endless brown eyes.

"Cooper, are you just a hopeless romantic under that uniform?"

The detective's cheeks flash pink, but he dismisses your question with a shake of his head.

"Sweetheart, if I had my way, you'd be making dinner tonight and every night at my house - with all the best gadgets."

...

"Wait, **_what?"_ **

...

"And you could toss those ratty pants of yours, cause I'd buy you all the dresses you could ever need. With matching lace aprons in every color!"

…

Your eyes narrow at him for a beat while you try to make sense of what he's saying.

…

"I'd even pitch in, maybe change diaper or two so you can get your figure back after all the kids."

...

"Oh riiiiight," you breathe as the memories of _Space Cop_ come to the front of your mind. "You're kind of an asshole.”

“What?" Cooper asks in disbelief. "I… I’m not a…” 

You hold a finger up to Cooper’s lips and shoosh him softly. 

"Shhhh, shh shh shhhhhh, Teddy-Bear. It’s okay,” you tell him before running your fingertips across the patch of beard stubble just under his bottom lip. "I just forgot about that with you being so cute and strong and all."

You stand up on your tip toes and kiss the big, beautiful idiot again; cherishing the feel of his scruffy face against yours.

"If you want to find a girlfriend who's less than 100 years old, Teddy, maybe you should take a women's history class at a local college or something."

"I'm pretty sure women aren't allowed inside of colleges," the agent replies. "Your smaller brains aren't exactly made for academia, sweet cheeks." He laughs heartily and holds his side. "Next, you'll be tellin' me men don't have the right to regulate a woman's body!"

You heard a timid knock against the door just as you begin to reach back to slap Cooper across his stupid, sexy face. 

"Times up," announces one of the younger Jays. 

You decide to forego violence against the detective (for the moment, at least) and drop your hand. You take a deep sigh and look back up to Cooper.

"Seriously, Cooper. If you ever get that head out of your ass, you'd make for a really good guy," you relay honestly.

"Crazy ideas or no, I think you're one dynamite gal."

"Thank you, Ted."

He brushes his fingertips across your brow line and holds your face tenderly in one, giant hand. You lean into his touch and he places a soft kiss on your forehead.

He pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. A coy smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"I'll be damned if I'll say this to any other dame, and I'll call you a liar right to your face if you bring this up in mixed company, but… uh… you can call me Teddy."

You stretch your neck up to meet his lips again and run your tongue just inside the seam of his mouth. He shivers lightly when you pepper him with two more sweet kisses.

"Thank you, Teddy."

You come back down to stand on your heels and motion to the door. Cooper tries to recover and shakes his shoulders briefly. 

"We'd better get back before they send in a search party," he jokes. You nod your understanding and move slowly to the exit.

Ted unlatches the lock and opens the door for you; stepping aside as you make your way back into the basement proper. 

The other men are turn away from another episode of _The Care Boars_ to stare back at you. 

"Oh man! That had to be like making out with your own grandfather," Martin says as he shivers in disgust. 

"More like **_MY_ ** own grandfather," Ronnie adds with a laugh. He throws up a hand and Martin gives him a weak high-five.

"He's old fashioned, sure. But that's just part of his charm," you happily relay to the group. The other Mikes and Jays scoff and roll their eyes.

"Yeah rioght!" Sid barks. "He's just a saucey old cop!"

You turn back to Ted and see his chipper expression falter. 

"He's a damn good cop…" you correct Sid. 

You lay back gingerly in the leather recliner and take another sip from Cooper's cocktail; sending him a small wink before finishing your thought:

"...and he could crush all of your skulls with one hand." 

The other men all peer over to the older Mike. A few of their eyes go wide when they finally take notice of Ted's thick mitts. 

"She's exaggerating, fellas!" he chuckles before folding his fingers together and cracking all ten knuckles in one, fluid motion. "I'd probably have to use both hands."

The guys all give Cooper a wide berth when they move to take seats along the two tattered couches. 

You lick your lips contemplatively as you survey all of the other bottles and glasses on the brass tv tray.

_Still a lot of drinks left._

"Alright, fellas. What's next?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed a fun little romp with Cooper. The stupid, sexy idiot. 
> 
> As an aside, one of the theories about why Americans call open-mouthed kissing "French kissing" is that the soldiers from WW1 and WW2 found the French women to be more... amorous... than American girls. So the term may have been coined for those sexy French ladies. 
> 
> Updates on this will be pretty sporadic, but I hope you enjoy the chapters. Anything you'd like to see in particular? Any ideas on who's next? How you doing?


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